Book of Revenge (7 page)

“Oh, well. That’s all right. Don’t be so hard on yourself. You can’t win them all.” My mother went back to sipping her tea.

I licked my lips and leaned back against the counter. My talent to foresee death had never been so vivid, never so—strung out. I tried to swallow, finding my throat had dried with fear. I felt my cheeks begin to flush from the lingering burst of adrenaline. The scene played over and over, unrelenting. I went to the fridge, retrieving the orange juice and pouring a large glass. I brought the cup to my lips, drinking quickly, hoping the simple act would help bring me back to my senses.

The patio door off the kitchen opened and Wes walked in. “Hey, everyone.”

“Hi, Wes.” My mother gave him a pathetic wave over her shoulder, conveying her misery. “Think I caught your flu.”

Wes looked up at me, lifting one brow in question. “Oh… Mrs. Taylor. That’s… That’s
horrible
.” He placed a hand on her back and winked at me. “Feel better soon, okay?”

My mother smiled sheepishly, enjoying the attention.

I pushed my mother’s death into the depths of my mind, trying to remember that today was Monday—I had bigger problems than harmless visions. I heard the pounding of feet as Emily bounded down the stairs. Glancing up as she turned the corner, I saw she was wearing a long sweater and jeans, her hair straightened and her make-up light. This was the Emily I loved. The Emily I always imagined she would grow up to be, not the Goth chick of before.

“Hey, Wes.” Emily threw her bag on the counter, hooking one arm around Wes’s neck and kissing him on the cheek.

Mother tried to pretend she hadn’t seen it, but the smirk on her face gave it away. “How was your date last night, you two?”

“Mo-
om
,” Emily whined, embarrassed that she’d even mention it. She’d thrown her hands in the air, eyes rolling. Her reaction was a little excessive.

“Okay!
Nevermind
.”
My mother stood from the stool, shuffling to the couch in the TV room opposite the kitchen. She sighed and sunk into the oversized cushions. “Have a good day, everyone. I’m going to go ahead and
die
now.”

Emily glowered at me. “See ya, Mom.” Her eyes remained on me as she slid her bag off the counter and grabbed a banana from the basket. Wes followed her.

I kept my gaze on my mother, last out the side door as I locked it behind me. We walked on the path between the houses toward the driveway where Wes’s car was already running. Emily opened the Camaro door, pulling the seat forward to access the back. I stood, waiting.

Emily cleared her throat. “After you.”

I was momentarily surprised. I had forgotten that I’d been downgraded to the backseat, Emily now upgraded as Wes’s girlfriend. I secretly grumbled to myself, disliking the new real-estate as I squeezed in. Emily was taller than me, so I guess it made sense that I should be the one sitting in the back, but that didn’t mean I wanted to. I wasn’t used to all the changes, but there wasn’t much I could do about it.

Wes turned on the music, shifting the car into reverse as Emily rummaged through her bag. She turned to me, a smirk on her face. “Here, want these?” She shoved her hand toward me, a set of ear buds and a pink iPod lying in her hand.

I tilted my head, narrowing my eyes. “No, but thanks.”

She gave me a sassy smile, knowing how much I hated this. From now on, Max was picking me up, whether he stayed for class or not. This plain sucked.

“Fine.” Emily shrugged with a satisfied glimmer in her eye.

Her shrug sent a sliver of her future death toward me—me strangling her. Grinning with vengeance, I took the image and aimed it back at Emily, knowing her clairvoyance would hone in on the signal.

Her back steeled against the seat in front of me. “Jane! Stop that!” she howled.

Wes put his hand on Emily’s knee, his face crinkled with pain caused by the pitch of her voice. He was telling her something with his mind. I could see it in the exchanged glances. Emily gawked at him before letting out a sigh of defeat, and then she smiled bashfully, her cheeks flushed.

I rolled my eyes. Max was definitely on carpool duty from now on. This was worse than death itself.

Finding things to distract me, I began to stew over my own irritating situation. Max had skipped fifty percent of his classes since his secret came out, leaving me alone. I hated that I had to suffer while he got to float by. The only classes he ever seemed to come to were the ones I was in, so it’s not that things really changed all that much, but it was the principal of it. He’d managed to convince a few teachers to allow him to transfer into the ones with me, but it only caused more issues—I didn’t want to know just how he convinced them. I only hoped it didn’t involve brainwashing, though I suspected otherwise. Mr. Thompson was never the type to give into anything, but he’d been the easiest to convince. That was all the confirmation I needed.

I sank down as far as I could, my knees leaning against the back of Emily’s seat. Trying to forget school, Winter Wood came to mind. I began to wonder just where it was. Emily turned then, glaring at both Wes and I.

Wes had a proud smirk on his face. “Just because you can hear what I’m thinking doesn’t mean I’m always thinking of things you want to know
.
”

Emily looked discouraged.

“Think of it as a rare surprise, Em. You should be happy,” Wes reminded her. “That was what you wanted, remember? You told me to talk to Max, so I did.”

Emily laughed, and I could tell she’d caught wind of the truth in his mind by the sudden smugness of her pose. “You mean he approached you, and forced you to talk about it.” Her smugness only lasted a moment more, then her expression turned sad. “Wes…” She placed her hand on his as it rested on the shifter. He’d clearly told her something more, something he didn’t want me knowing or else he would have said it out loud. “I’m sorry.”

I sat forward. “Sorry? What did Max tell you?” I didn’t care if he didn’t want to tell me, I still wanted to know because it involved Max.

Wes turned away from the both of us, his jaw clenched. “I don’t want to talk about it. There was a reason I was trying to hide it.” His voice was bitter, and aimed at us, not Max.

Emily let go of his hand, looking hurt.

We drove the rest of the way to school in silence, my mind wondering what it was Wes had learned from Max, and what Emily knew, too. Beneath it all, Winter Wood still lingered, though buried too deep to broach again today.

I hated being out of the loop, but at least they were talking to me again.

Emily:

At the end of the week, I sat in history class, shaking my leg. To me, history was anything but exciting. This was Jane’s area. If there was any history that I’d be interested in, it was the conversation that had conspired between Max and Wes this past weekend, and what Winter Wood was. Despite wanting to find out, the moment or subject hadn’t arisen since Monday. Teachers seemed determined to pile on the work as the weeks of school grew deeper into the season, and everyone was simply struggling to survive. Spending time thinking about anything but homework was foolish, if you cared about grades that is. Unfortunately, Wes and Jane did.

Frustrated, I looked down the aisle, seeing Jake Santé. He had been the boy that helped save Wes from class a few weeks ago by lying about taking me to the nurse after my fake seizure. Jake stared at the teacher as though he were the most interesting thing he’d ever seen. I shook my head, finding his stereotypical nerdiness comical—a momentary relief from my boredom.

I stretched my talents until I could hear his thoughts, draped with excitement over each word that passed Mr. Jackson’s lips. I began to think about the way Jake often thought of me when I was near him. His thoughts were always…
endearing
, if that’s what you’d even call it, but most guys’ were. With Wes as my boyfriend now, he no longer showered me with admiration the way he first did when he used to flirt with me from a distance. It was only natural to miss such praise. My indulgence in the thoughts of other men was harmless, let alone unavoidable. The least I could do was enjoy them, right?

I watched Jake lick an excess of saliva from his lips, his massive braces and thick glasses still as detrimental to his popularity as ever. Granted he wasn’t the best boy to receive a compliment from, but in retrospect, it was like enjoying art. You had to appreciate the differences, at least in some way.

Drowning myself in the complexity of Jake’s world, I began to think about how funny it was that physical objects could determine someone’s popularity, as they did for him. I always admired confidence, though, and Jake never cared what anyone said about him. To me, he was free—a rare thing, and something worth taking the time to study.

“Emily…”

I broke away from my staring game, my head snapping forward. Mr. Jackson was glaring at me. “What do
you
think?”

I hadn’t heard a thing he’d said, but it didn’t take much to hear what he was thinking about what he’d said and what he wanted for an answer. “I think the Conquistador’s conquest in the Americas was justified. They wanted to beat the Europeans to the land.”

It wasn’t the exact answer he was looking for, but I liked to stir controversy.

“And… Jake?” The teacher turned away from me. “What do you think of Emily’s view on the conquest?”

Jake sat up, eyeing me and then looking to Mr. Jackson. “I think they should have left the natives alone. They brought disease to the area—small pox, chicken pox and measles, not to mention the widespread outburst of rabies.”

Mr. Jackson grinned from ear to ear, content with Jake’s perfect answer. I rolled my eyes. Jake looked at me again, smiling smugly with his giant braces exposed. I held back the desire to giggle—or was it gag?—as his endearing thoughts gushed over every curve of my body.

“Great answer, Jake.” Mr. Jackson stood tall, looking between the two of us.

I sank in my chair.
No. Please, no!

“Pair up everyone. We’re going to debate these two answers. Jake. Emily. You two will be together on this. I like where the tension is going.”

I shut my eyes, despising Mr. Jackson even more than I did the day he challenged me for answers on the renaissance—non-stop—as though he knew I could read his mind and he was testing that hypothesis. The whole class stood, quickly pairing up with best friends. Jake stood, grappling his books and nearly tripping over every one of the three desks between us before reaching me.

“Shall we go to the library?” he asked.

Jake was breathing hard, the wind of it falling against my skin. Swallowing hard, I refused to breathe through my nose. I didn’t want to know what his breath smelled like, and though I tried not to, I imagined it to be something resembling last night’s macaroni. I shivered, thinking that I needed a shower as soon as I got home.

“
Uh…
Sure,” I replied through clenched teeth. At least there would be more clean, fresh air to be shared in the library.

I grabbed my bag off the back of the chair, following him out the door.

He walked beside me down the hall, his stride suddenly more confident. “This assignment should be easy.”

I lifted one brow. “You could say that.” Easy to him was finding the answer, but to me there was nothing easy about it. It was Jake, and I had to be his partner.

“I’m a Santé,” he went on. “My ancestors are from South America. Being a native, we know a lot about the invasion of the Conquistadors.” He cleared his throat. “It’ll be like talking at a family reunion.” His voice had suddenly grown deeper.

I nodded arbitrarily. “Great,” My voice was flat, too distracted by my determination not to breathe through my nose and the sudden change in his voice.

Jake snorted, his back no longer hunched over and his movements smooth. “I get it, Emily. I know you’re not impressed by me.”

I was shocked by his directness, and I suddenly felt bad. “No, it’s not…” I clenched my fists. I’d never made fun of him—at least not like other people did.

“I don’t have many friends, not here at least.”

I wanted to drop dead with guilt, but I couldn’t tell if making me feel bad for him was his ploy or not. Searching his mind, it didn’t offer any answers. I stared at him boldly, concentrating as hard as I could.

Stop that.

I heard his voice inside my head. My shoulders jerked back and I halted in the hall.
“What?”
I gaped.

Jake turned and looked over his shoulder. “What?” He shrugged.
I know what you’re doing.

There it was again. I blinked, further shocked. “Wait, how did you…” I stopped myself, not wanting to sound crazy.

Because.

I stood frozen, glaring at his eyes behind his giant black frames. “How did you do that?” I demanded this time, convinced this was real.